We know not of what happened to those souls who disappeared, but we did find several of their belongings.

Uh oh. Vampires and disappeared, quite worrisome. Dere’s father would certainly not have left that blade behind.

@Acadian: Thank you. This builds off of a medieval tradition, that every comfortably off family had a coat of arms. Now you know Dere's.
Nits be picked.

@TheOtherRick: An excellent comparison!

@schrodinger's cat rider: You must have already picked up on the fact that I like mystery plots. This is very much one, but don't worry. I am aware of all the questions that need answering.

@mALX: Deeper and more intriguing? I hope to go even further than that. How soon I cannot tell you, but keep reading to find out.

@Destri Melarg: First off, welcome back! I certainly have been busy in your absence! Thank you for your insight, I'm very glad you think I have avoided that cliche so far. I did my best with it, so I'm glad it paid off. Dreams may be touchy in writing, but they are a good way to get things started in the TES universe; that's why I chose that approach.

@SubRosa: I'll get there soon enough with some pictures of him, don't worry. He's just a little outside my expectations right now. I need to get him dressed properly and give him proper equipment and all that, and get him to Bravil (well, that's what Frostcrag is good for, at least). And here we have another key element of the mystery story: not knowing who to trust. That's exactly what I was shooting for here, so I'm glad you picked up on that.
As for the blade, the reasonable excuse is that it wasn't drawn all the way. Dere only drew it enough to view the coat of arms. I will edit that part a bit to reflect that so less confusion arises, though.

@Grits: Definitely not good, and also why Dere so wanted to go straight to the ruins to look around.

@all: Thank you all for your continued support.

next: A bit of an emergency arises.






A sharp stinging sensation in my right arm woke me from my slumber. I had chosen to stay at a small, but cozy inn called Silverhome On The Water for the night after finding Marz had finished her services when I first arrived at the chapel. Now, a tossy-turny night’s sleep later, the deep wound in my arm had begun to smart afresh. Pulling back the sleeve of my nightgown, I encountered a sight that nearly made me gag.

Where once there was red had now turned a sickly green, and blue veins were beginning to pop up from beneath my skin. Angry red cobwebs of irritation had spun themselves across my skin, and my wound was bleeding again… but this time, not blood. Any attempt to touch the festering gash was met with such piercing pain it was akin to sticking my arm with a giant nail where I touched it. All this, despite the fact that I had specifically applied a generous coating of disinfectant lotion before going to sleep. There must have been something in the bedding here; I’ve never had any problems with festering wounds when I used that recipe before. This made me quite unhappy. I only had the one bottle from when I left Valenwood.

After dressing quickly, I struck an urgent pace as I made my way for the door of the inn, ignoring the keeper’s bid of good morning. I needed to see Marz straightaway, or the Dark Brotherhood would be the least of my worries.




----




“Here for Marz again, are you?” the elderly Primate inquired as a way of greeting. “She’s right over there.”

The Breton indicated an Argonian nearby the Grand Altar of Mara. She was kneeling before it, deep in prayer. I hated to interrupt her, but given that the wound in my arm had gone from glassy as the Rumare to festering like a rotten swamp, I decided things were urgent enough. I would pray for forgiveness later, if need be.

“Marz?” I requested. The Argonian quickly stood in response to her name, looking reproachful, but otherwise attentive. “I apologize for interrupting your morning prayer, but I felt this couldn’t wait.”

“There are many who think the same,” Marz responded, eyes narrowing and a light hiss of annoyance upon her tongue. “You wouldn’t believe the number of people here who think scraping themselves against a thorny board is enough to come to my doorstep, screaming bloody murder. I really do hope this is good, because I have had close to enough of my time wasted already.”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t have disturbed your prayers if I didn’t think it wasn’t worth your time,” I replied, raising my right sleeve. The Argonian’s irritated expression then slid off her face faster than ice melting in magma, replaced with a mingled expression of shock and concern.

“By Mara, what happened to you?!” she exclaimed indignantly.

“Someone tried to kill me a couple of days ago,” I replied. “Long story, but the wound was fine until last night. I tried to find you last evening, but you had gone to bed already, so I had to wait. Obviously, I waited a bit too long,” I finished sheepishly.

“A bit?” Marz continued, “I’m surprised you can still walk! You should be bedridden with a fever greater than the heat of the Deadlands right now!”

Maybe that disinfectant had done something then, I wondered to myself. I wasn’t familiar with the diseases here in Cyrodiil, but given Marz’s reaction to my wound, it made me quite certain that, at least here, they could be lethal. Suddenly, I felt much differently about my using the lotion.

“Well, I did treat it before going to bed,” I told Marz. “It was a distilled lotion of tinder polyphore and foxglove nectar.”

“Not an easy recipe,” Marz commented, “but sound for your application. That might have stopped the worst of this, but it’s still going to be rather difficult to tend to. Not to mention painful.”

I repressed a grimace. Just because I completely expected this didn’t make it any easier for me to hear.

“Give me your arm,” Marz then requested. At my hesitation, she then continued, “I need contact in order to help you. I know it hurts, but there really is no other way.”

I slowly held out the infected wound, watching as Marz brought her fingers to it as gently as she could. The moment they touched my raw skin, pain seared through my body like a freshly forged dagger plunging through my chest. I bit back my anguished cry, coming dangerously close to severing my tongue.

Then the pain faded. It fell from a fiery shock to a painful prickle before finally ending on a dull throb. I felt a surge of energy coursing through my body, emptying it of every last trace of my torture. My body was bathed in bright white light as two great swirls danced around me; all a joyous celebration of life and wellness. When the light finally faded away, I could feel no trace of the damage that was done to me.

The joy in my heart was not shared by Marz, unfortunately. She was breathing quite heavily, and made a beeline for one of the wooden pews. After a very ungraceful collapse into the seat, she turned back to me.

“That is the best I can do,” she told me as I eyed an obvious U-shaped scar on my arm where the cut had once dwelled. “If you had arrived sooner, we might have even been able to avoid the scarring. The wound was deep, though; the blade that cut you nearly struck the bone. You are quite lucky to be alive after that infection, too, Bosmer.”

“And I most surely would be dead had it not been for your skill,” I complimented her, hoping it might ease some of the tension in her weary muscles. “Thank you.”

“Oh, well… thank you for your gratitude,” Marz replied. “That’s not something worth five to the Drake here, I appreciate it.”

“How did you get so skilled?” I then decided to ask.

“Through much toil and hardship,” Marz commented. “Why, do wish to learn more about the healing arts?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” I replied.

“Well, it will have to wait for another time, I’m afraid,” came Marz’s response. Her tired eyes glanced towards the luminescent stained glass portrait of the chapel’s namesake Divine. “Serious wounds are quite exhausting for me.”

“I understand,” I replied. I would not bother this woman any further, as she obviously wished for some time to herself. I made my way back outside.

The grandiose Great Chapel of Mara was by far the most impressive building in the entire city; even the muddy castle paled in comparison to its granite arches and spires. The bell tower bore its description perfectly, towering above the ramshackle cottages and bungalows of the city. As I shut the great oak doors behind me, a grand, charismatic bell tolled. I guessed by the position of the sun that it might be the tenth bell of the day. Just visible above me was a vibrant mural of glass depicting a young woman clothed in green robes and wearing an expression of infinite understanding and compassion. This chapel was probably the most popular landmark within these walls for a very good reason, I thought. Just one look at the state of living in Bravil would make even the crassest man wrinkle his nose in disgust. Hope for a better future was probably all that many of the people here had.




----




The great blue eye of the Mages Guild followed me to the single door leading inside. Since I was going to be bound to the walls of this city for a few days, I felt that I might as well get on with what I came here for. Besides, my initial gut reaction to find Nornalhorst as soon as I could had been replaced with sense as I slept. I didn't even know where the place was, let alone how to get there. The inside of the Guild was just as much a contrast to the outside as was the Guild of Fighters. A warm fire blazed in the dining hall to my right, where the table was lavishly (for Bravil, that is) decorated with ceramic utensils and plates. Just ahead of me, an Altmer nearly twice my height stood behind a glass counter, hard at work with her mortar and pestle. The acrid fumes of her calcinator were offset by the many sticks of incense softly smoking on nearby shelves, filling the guild with a delightful scent of lavender. Finally, a woman clad in blue suede, very obviously a Breton, was strolling throughout the lobby, her hand to her mouth as if deeply pondering something. She looked magisterly enough; I made my approach.

“Excuse me,” I inquired, “but are you the magister?”

“What?” the woman responded. Her voice was quite powerful and invigorating, and she held herself with supreme confidence. “Oh, sorry. No, I’m not her, that would be Kud-Ei. She’s right over there.”

She indicated a deeply troubled Argonian sat in a corner looking very much like she wished to remain undisturbed. It was then I realized I had completely forgotten what Deetsan had told me back in Cheydinhal. No doubt that information was unequivocally lost in the Yews.

“Thank you,” I replied, carefully skirting the fact that I had forgotten about Kud-Ei. “And well met, as well. I’m Derelas,” I then greeted the Breton.

“Delphine Jend,” she replied with much pomp. “Advanced Trainer in Destruction, and mage destined for great things. It is an honor to meet you, Bosmer.”

Her voice resounded throughout the hall, and I got the feeling she was speaking for more than just herself. I was quite sure everyone here now knew my name after that most ceremonious greeting.

“Well, you seem quite busy, so I’ll leave you to your thoughts then,” came my sheepish response. I quickly ducked away into Kud-Ei’s corner before Delphine could continue.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t notice you.” Kud-Ei responded to my intrusion. Given the racket Delphine had just made, that must mean she was quite worried, indeed. “I’m Kud-Ei, magister for Bravil. I’m sorry, but I’m a little pre-occupied right now.”

“What with?” I then asked strategically, but hopefully empathetically. “Maybe I can help.”

Kud-Ei then took a moment to size me up, from my walnut trusses and braids all the way down to my slightly overlarge feet. Afterwards, she returned her gaze to my own.

“Yes, maybe you could. I need some help with a friend of mine.”

Loved the description of the healing process from the healee's point of view! Oooh, I see trouble ahead now for Dere, lol. Great Chapter !!

Your description of the festered wound sounds to me like you've had one before, or seen one of that nature. They are gross and disgusting, especially when the immune system isn't working well. Ugh.

The healing process is wonderfully described, as well as the Chapel of Mara, complete with the stained glass windows and murals. As a matter of fact, you make it sound much grander than the matter-of-fact Romanesque pile of stone it really is in game. But that's all right - it adds to the atmosphere of Bravil as a stark contrast to the general mud and squalor.

I smiled at this - I see you used my favorite description of the town!

Delphine Jend, a magister? *shudder* What on nirn is the Mages Guild coming to? Oh, wait, it's Kud-Ei that's the magister! Whew! *wipes brow melodramatically*

Has Derelas gotten himself gangrene! Looks like he should have put some maggots in that wound.

After her initial snarkiness, Marz comes through in the end. She - and the chapel - fit perfectly into your rough and worn version of Bravil.

“How did you get so skilled?” I then decided to ask.
“Through much toil and hardship,” Marz commented.
I loved this exchange. So true of so many things!

Hmmm, why do I think Derelas is going to be taking a trip down dream lane?

Another tasty installment, if we can agree to call festering pus-filled wounds tasty. Our two trains of thought are soon to be traveling the same tracks, as Talendor is bound for Bravil to seek Kud-Ei and Henantier as well. I am not going to read the next installment until I have posted that segment for fear of derailing my train.

I also liked the way you made Chapel Mara stand out amongst the filth of Bravil.

One nit...sort of -
“Delphine Jend,” she replied with much pomp. “Advanced Trainer in Destruction, and mage destined for great things. It is an honor to meet you, Bosmer.”
Her voice resounded throughout the hall, and I got the feeling she was speaking for more than just herself. I was quite sure everyone here now knew my name after that most ceremonious greeting.
I never saw Delphine mention Derelas' name...

I am anxiously looking forward to reading about the dreamworld after posting my own.

I agree that Dere's description of being healed by Marz was wonderful.

The paragraph you used to introduce the mages guild was fabulous! Here, you very efficiently painted a full picture that delighted all the senses.

My body was bathed in bright white light as two great swirls danced around me; all a joyous celebration of life and wellness.

I enjoyed the entire section from the (gross!) wound to the healing, but this line stood out the most to me.

Your description of the guild hall brought it to life, then your Delphine and Kud-Ei made it feel inhabited by real people.

@mALX: There's trouble ahead, alright.

@haute ecole rider: That's because I don't consider the chapels to be Romanesque. One look at them, and I see large windows, pointed arches, flying buttresses... that all screams "Gothic" to me. Bravil is, without a doubt, the town most similar to cities in the Middle Ages, being almost entirely slummy, run-down streets and buildings. However, at least they put a lot by their gods, enough to build a decent church, at least.

@SubRosa: I'm glad you enjoyed the little exchange between Dere and Marz. Hopefully the two of them will see more of each other, but let's concentrate on the business at hand first.

@Rick: Don't be gone too long.
As for your nit, I decided to leave it be, because that was part of Dere's thoughts and simply an expression.

@Acadian: I expect no less than the best from the Bravil guild.

@Grits: Thank you very much.

@all: We have dreams to infiltrate, and a certain magister to please. How will this turn out? Nobody knows... yet.

next: We're off to see the wizard....






“Okay, let me recap,” I spoke. Kud-Ei had finished explaining her plight to me. It was quite an earful, so I wanted to go over it to myself to make sure I had the details. “Your friend Henantier is stuck in the Dreamworld because an experiment of his went pear-shaped, and you want me to find a way into his dreams so I can rescue him?”

“That pretty much sums it up,” Kud-Ei responded, fidgeting uncomfortably in her chair. All well and good, but there was still a white guar in the room needing addressing.

“Well, why ask me? Wouldn’t you be more trusting if you asked someone you knew for help?”

“Because I know them too well, and I know that they tend to ask awkward questions,” Kud-Ei replied. “Besides, it will look less suspicious having someone new perform this task.” This response concerned me a bit; she was certainly working for discretion, and such figures have turned out to be a bit… shady for me, despite their sincerity.

“And why is that?” I inquired, not caring about the part she had stated about awkward questions. She proceeded to narrow her eyes before giving a deep sigh.

“Well, I guess this has to come out sooner or later,” she told me. “But we can’t talk here. Follow me.”

She led me out of the guild hall, down High Street a small ways, and stopped at the front door to a rather unremarkable house. She quickly inserted a small key to unlock the door, then beckoned me inside.

“Alright, since you’ve agreed to do this for me, you might as well know a few details, if it will make you feel better,” Kud-Ei spoke after locking the door behind us. “I don’t want to go through the regular channels of the Mages Guild because this isn’t the first time Henantier has tried these sorts of experiments. He was quite ambitious during our tenure together at the University, and had a knack for performing unusual, and dangerous, experiments. He had to be told several times to stop, and for a time after that horse mishap, he did. And I will have you know he had no involvement in that affair, as well," she added rather pointedly. I didn't quite understand what she was talking about, but I decided to ignore it -- at least for now.

“That was until recently, when he nearly killed two members while testing a new spell,” Kud-Ei continued, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with every word spoken. “Then the Council threatened him with expulsion if he continued. And now, he’s done it again.”

Kud-Ei paused for breath, and also seemed to be bracing herself. For what, I could not tell. I remained silent, waiting for Kud-Ei to finish before letting loose my deluge of questions.

“He just can’t help himself, you see, he dearly loves his studies and equally loves to push his boundaries; he just can’t seem to figure out where to stop. I can’t ask anyone for help that I know because I’m trying to keep this as quiet as I can, for fear of Henantier’s future. I don’t wish to see him expelled, even if his thirst for knowledge comes before his better judgment. That’s why I’m asking you to do this. You are new to the Guild, unknown. If you help me, it will be easier for me to keep this affair off the records.”

Could anyone in this town not keep a secret?

“Okay, so… I can help you most because you don’t know me?” I asked, still not being able to put something together. “That seems rather backward to me, you know.”

“And that’s exactly it,” Kud Ei responded, looking quite desperate now. “I don’t know you, therefore the guild doesn’t know you, and that makes it easier for me to ensure this never happened. That’s the key here; this never happened. If the Council catches wind of this, Henantier’s days in the guild are through, and I don’t think I could stan… I don’t wish to see him gone.”

She was certainly going out of her way here, I thought. She must really care for this man… mer… well, whatever.

“Okay, say I accept,” I began, “what happens when this is all done?”

“You’re looking for recommendations, right?” Kud-Ei replied. “I could see to it that you get one.”

“I thought this was supposed to be off the record?”

“And it will be,” Kud-Ei told me, motioning for me to quiet down. “This is the Bravil branch, and we are known for being rather clever.”

I then took a moment to ponder the Argonian’s request. I help her with a task she can trust no one but the least trustworthy person in the room to do, and in return I receive a recommendation that might undo everything we worked for here. Well, she said she could cover this up, and she looked like she had the cleavage to do it, so on her own green scaly head be it.

“Where is Henantier?”




----




“This is Henantier.”

Kud-Ei indicated a very well-grown Altmer in bed, who we found a flight of stairs above where we spoke. He was mostly concealed by the covers, but his golden head remained above the sea, which was tossing him about like a flimsy dory.

“You’ll need this to enter his Dreamworld,” Kud-Ei told me, holding a small silver amulet in her hand. It glowed green with magical energy, which gradually wound its way across the chain before converging on a small black stone in the center of the amulet, where it then started again. “It is inlaid with black pearl, a most expensive and precious stone revered by seers. They say it has the power to unlock our deepest dreams… and our deepest fears.”

I was not-very-suddenly starting to have second thoughts about agreeing to this. I was never told I would be wearing strange jewelry with some brain-sucking crystal, especially one that 'unlocks your fears'.

“So, I understand I need to wear this,” I responded, taking the amulet from Kud-Ei’s clawed fingers. “What will it do?”

“The enchantment will make you drowsy at first. Once you fall asleep, it will then allow the black pearl access to your mind. This is a special amulet, though, Henantier asked me only to use it in case of an emergency. It will not access your mind, it will instead bridge your mind into Henantier’s, meaning you will be visiting his dreams.” Kud-Ei explained to me quickly. She seemed to be in a mighty hurry to put me to bed, she almost seemed like a mildly overbearing mother. “Now please, over here.” She indicated an empty bed very close to Henantier’s; one which I had a fleeting feeling was only recently separated from the other. “Put the amulet on, and let it take hold of you. Once you are inside Henantier’s dreams, try and find a way to get him out.”

“Would that be in any way dangerous?” I inquired. Given that I was liking this plan less and less every second, the answer was very predictable.

“It… might,” Kud-Ei responded hesitantly. “He created this Dreamworld to test his mettle and resolve, so there might be some challenge involved. Do take care not to get killed, though. Henantier told me little about the place, but he did say that being killed in the Dreamworld would mean death to your physical body, as well.”

Damn.

“Now please, there is very little time to lose,” Kud-Ei then encouraged me, motioning with vigor to the bed. Gritting my teeth at what I was getting myself into, I slipped the amulet over my shoulders and around my neck, and sank beneath the covers of the slightly lumpy bed.

Drowsiness hit me like a wallop to the stomach. My eyelids had turned to marble, and I was now waging an epic battle to keep them open, just long enough to say a little prayer.

“Ever watchful Lord of Horses, may your guidance never waver, and may your hooves beat always within my green fields of knowing.”




----




My eyes flew open. I was standing once again in the bedroom, but it had been altered nearly beyond recognition. Before I could drink everything in, though, a sudden chill immediately brought my attention to another fact. I had been changed, as well. And not in a very comforting way.

“Oh, great,” I muttered to myself, rolling my eyes. She just had to forget to mention I couldn’t take my clothes with me, didn’t she?

This sentence is awkward.
He had to be told several times to stop, and for a time after that horse mishap, which he had no involvement in I will tell you now, he did.
Maybe split it in two?
He had to be told several times to stop, and for a time after that horse mishap he did. Not that he had any involvement in it, I will tell you now.

Other than that it's a great exposition of the state of mind of those involved, especially getting him to agree before he's really ready.

I like Kud-Ei’s desperate defense of Henantier’s actions, despite the obvious difficulty he has caused both of them. It shows how much she cares for him even more than the recently separated beds. Leaving the clothes behind is one thing, but the Kissing Mares blade might have come in handy!

ROFL !!!!


This chapter was GREAT !!! Your combination of humor and depiction of Kud-Ei kept me in stitches !!! Awesome Write !!!

And off we go . . .

This is one of the more bizarre quests I've ever participated in. Not even Shivering Isles could beat this one for sheer weirdness. It'll be interesting to see how Dere handles the challenges ahead of him.

Enjoyed Kud-Ei's squirming while trying to convince Dere to go for it. He's smart enough to know she's hiding something! And it seems to me he's smart enough to know what it is!

I agree with ghastley on the sentence he singled out. Do take another look at it. Anytime this speed reader needs to read the same sentence more than once means it's not that well crafted. Lucky you, it's the only one I faltered over in the entire chapter, and it's something that's rare in the entire story!

and for a time after that horse mishap
The horse mishap? What did Maxical do now?

so on her own green scaly head be it
A wonderful setting-friendly phrase!

So Derelas is off to dreamy-dream land! With nothing but his birthday suit no less! Too bad Faith is not there to see it!

nits:
The is the Bravil branch
Looks like Henantier's unconstrained id switched your This with a The.

“unlocks your fears.”
Just an observation, but you might consider using 'single' quotations here instead of "double", to make it more clear that this is not dialogue.

“Would that be in any way dangerous?” I inquired{.}
The pirates from Henantier's black pearl pillaged your period.

My goodness. It was BB (before Buffy) that last I did this quest, so I am so looking forward to having Dere show it to me.

I agree with mALX (always a wise decision) that your use of humor in Dere's observations was a welcome treat. Oh, and I'll bet SubRosa is right; Maxical could tell you about that horse mishap.

'but there was still a white guar in the room needing addressing.'
What a cleverly effective and TES-ie picture this suggests!

“This is the Bravil branch, and we are known for being rather clever."



Nit:
'He was quite ambitious during out tenure together at the University,'
I'm sure you meant 'our' vs 'out' here.

@Gastley Graves: Thank you, both for your comment and your nit.

@Grits: Kud-Ei definitely cares for Henantier, I'm glad that came off with a clear meaning for you.

@mALX: But do I have to go to bed, mommy? I keep having nightmares.

@rider: Yes, Kud-Ei's excuses do seem rather transparent, don't they? That's because they are, and we will find out why very soon. I never liked how easily she seemed to get you involved in all this, so at the same time as giving you all a neat adventure, I am also giving my responses to how she handled this. This theme will continue throughout the chapter.
That brain-collapsingly complex sentence has now been simplified.

@SubRosa: Well, she certainly didn't do anything like blow up the arena or give Irlav Jarol an aneurysm, and perhaps a unibrow. Indeed, too bad for Sera, though Dere might not share that opinion.
Nits be picked.

@Acadian: Guars remind me a lot of elephants, and they do tend to stand out. It's a lot of fun TES-ifying modern slang.
Nit be picked.

@all: Sorry for the brief absence, I had to deal with a few RL matters. Namely getting back onto my school schedule with Spring Break being over, along with some spring cleaning. Most of that is finished now, so I shall be continuing onwards.

next: The trials of a semi-clueless wood elf begin. (Cookie for anyone who gets the reference)






I tried and failed to repress a shiver that was only half-triggered by the sudden chill. I was completely disrobed; I could see every little detail of my farmer-tanned body, now glowing with a subtle green tint. I could view everything from my flat, not very prominent male breasts down to the tuft of black hair hiding that one part no one ever wanted to see. I wished I could have been warned about this, even if it were impossible to predict this would happen. It’s never any fun to lose your clothes.

I then drew my eyes to the room I was inhabiting. It looked similar to the room Henantier was sleeping in, but it had been altered and twisted almost beyond recognition. The entire room was bathed in a blood-red light, making me recall a number of strange dreams. Immediately in front of me, a giant cavern had grown from the wall. Numerous baseboards from the floor and ceiling had been splintered and torn asunder, and the bed I had been sleeping on was turned on its end. This lent a voracious viciousness to the scene before me, causing me to shudder with uncertainty and vulnerability.

I reached for the pommel of the artful blade I had belted to my side this morning, only to find it gone. That, along with my missing clothing, led me to the most unfortunate conclusion that I had brought nothing with me but the wretched amulet around my neck. Anger boiled the blood beneath my glowing skin; how could I be so stupid? Why did I ever trust that this would all work out okay? Kud-Ei had swindled me, and I wanted no more of this nonsense.

My left hand flew for the black pearl amulet and tried with all its might to rend it from around my neck. When it didn’t budge, I tried again… and again… and again.

“Why does the frightened lamb flee? There is no way out… no way out but forward.”

I gave pause with my increasingly futile attempts to tear away the jewel. I knew that voice… female, but twisted and terrible.

“The lamb is caught in the blackberry patch…” she continued, maliciousness oozing from every pore of her voice, sending my neck hairs on end and deep, visible shivers down my spine. “So now you know, dear… run and catch.”

Great red eyes flashed into visibility before my own, burning through my flesh with their fiery gaze. But an instant later, they were gone, leaving nothing but a furious glow where they had scorched their visage upon me. My entire body was shivering now, with a familiar ice dripping down my neck. This wasn’t my nightmare -- but it was learning fast.

It was only then that I noticed I was not alone in the room. An Altmer was present as well, cowering in a distant corner and looking like vapor about to be whisked away by the slightest breeze, making me uncertain if I should walk too close. He appeared not to have noticed me, which was good, considering the circumstances. I made my way over to the corner he was hiding in.

“Umm… are you Henantier?” I asked the shivering Altmer. He responded by whimpering quietly and shrinking further away from me than I thought might be possible, eyes wide as dinner plates as they stared unblinkingly at my feet. He was very clearly scared out of his wits, as if he had no courage whatsoever. And why did he look like he was made of wisps of smoke, too? What did this mean? Why didn’t that s’wit Kud-Ei tell me anything about what I was supposed to do? I so wanted to speak to Equine now, ask his assistance, but I was not sure if my thoughts would penetrate the blackened veil of Henantier’s Dreamworld. Nonetheless, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“Equine, can you hear me?”

Silence. I tried again, but it was fruitless. I was locked away in Henantier’s brain, and none, not even a divine spirit, could penetrate it. Resigned to the fact that I was now completely alone, I began to ponder what exactly I was supposed to do. My mind returned to the riddling voice I heard a few moments ago. No way out but forward. Run and catch. What was she talking about?

My eyes met the tumultuous cavern growing out of the walls. I now noticed the presence of a small wooden door. Unsure if I had any other choice, I made my way over and pushed it.

The door opened with a loud creaking onto total darkness; nothing but a pitch-black void. Unfortunately, before I could so much as scoff in exasperation, a great wind sucked me inside. I was falling… and there was no ground to speak of anywhere I could see. The darkness compressed upon me, forcing my eyes shut. It was over; I was never to leave this place alive.




----




One heart-stopping second later, and I was placed gently upon a hewn stone floor. My knees buckled, completely unable to support my weight after my previous experience. It took many moments, perhaps hours, to steady myself and find my footing once again. I was shivering so badly I could swear I felt the ground quaking beneath my limp body. I then suddenly felt a warm puddle creeping around my loins….

I leapt to my feet with an indignant cry. Okay, I thought, that was it. If I get out of this place alive, Oblivion’s depths would ensnare the soul of that swindling lizard. This was her fault I was in this mess. She should not have ever allowed Henantier to do this to himself. They were living together, after all, did she even try to stop him? Why did she have to treat me like I was some pawn in her little game?

The burning hatred within my heart coursed through my skin, heating every pore in its boiling, corrupting wake. It was all I could do now to leave this place, so I could find that damned lizard and give her just comeuppance. Revitalized and imbibed with renewed vigor, I set forth to brave the horrors ahead.

Immediately before me stood a strange, hexagonal object. It looked like it had a lid, so it was probably a container of some sort. A quick tug on the top confirmed this theory, and I pulled a small scroll from within the bright ethereal blue depths of the chest. Quickly unfurling it, I found an utterly baffling sight before my eyes. None of the words were written in the Cyrodiilic or Valen tongues, they were simply composed of sharply angled glyphs. Distinctly let down by this decidedly un-fascinating discovery, I made my way forward into the compressing darkness, clutching the scroll in my hand. It may have been useless, but at least it was nice to feel something in my hand.

Soon the darkness was complete, and my eyes could not discern even my hand in front of my face. Focusing my will on creating light from the black void ahead of me, I clenched my fist hard to call upon my Magicka, and felt it coursing through me as had my rage. I held my hand high to let loose the new light….

Suddenly the amulet around my neck glowed shockingly red, and my spell fizzled away into nothing. A second attempt yielded the same result. So, the amulet I could only remove by decapitating myself was also blocking any attempt I made to cast even the simplest spells? Gritting my teeth in frustration and anger, my pace quickened as I felt the heat within my skin grow even more intense.

After many moments of plodding through the void, a bright light ahead dazzled my eyes, and I found myself running to meet it. Could this be an exit? I sure hoped it would be. But no, it was not to be; my heart sank as I found myself face to face with what I could only describe to be a gauntlet. Tall pillars rose into the abyss above my head, every inch of them laced with holes, and the tiles on the floor stuck out very prominently and oddly. Gingerly making my way forward into the ring of stone, I stepped carefully onto one of the tiles, and found it give way under my feet.

Next thing I knew, I was diving out of the ring as it was filled with a huge racket of swishing wind. As I dove, sharp, searing pain bit into my left leg. When the howling, biting gale finally stopped, I chanced a glance at the spot where I had been pierced. A large, feathered dart was sticking out of my thigh. Clenching my teeth and closing my eyes, I quickly tore it out, and watched as deep red blood welled up inside the puncture before spilling over my skin. Cursing the amulet for not allowing me to tend to the wound, I made my way inside the ring of stone pillars far more cautiously this time. What was I supposed to do? My first thought was that there was supposed to be some switch here I could step on without setting the traps off, but which one could it be?

I recalled the scroll in my hand. Wrenching it open, I scoured the surface looking for some sort of pattern. I found but one, some of the symbols in the three boxes were identical and linked to each other. The first box was four symbols wide by four symbols deep. Glancing up at the tiles before me, I counted them quickly; four wide by four deep. Tracing a path along the linked symbols, I gingerly and carefully placed my foot down upon the second tile from the left in the row directly in front of me.

Silence greeted my ears. Nothing had happened. I then moved forward and confidently set my weight onto the tile directly in front of me. Again, nothing happened. Glancing back down at the scroll once more, I noted I needed to step left one tile, and then I could simply parade onwards. After accomplishing that, I gazed back at the innocently lit pillars with a grin of triumph upon my face.

After many more moments of wandering in the dark, I found another gauntlet. Opening the scroll once again, I quickly found the pattern of repeating symbols and followed them through to the end. This one was more difficult than the last, though. The field of tiles was much larger and the path more twisted. I had to catch myself several times to avoid treading on the wrong tile and getting myself turned into Skyrim cheese. After several moments, however, I was able to put the second gauntlet behind me. The scroll evidenced one more ahead of me, so I took the time to prepare my mind for the toughest, and for what I hoped was the last, dart gauntlet.

It took a very long time, but eventually, the final gauntlet was behind me. The next sight to catch my eye was that of a circular stone plinth with a glowing purple orb hovering just above it. This must be what I came here for. I slowly made my way forward, choosing my footing carefully least there be any more of those wretched tiles waiting for me to step on them. Fortunately for me, there were none, and I soon found myself within touching distance of the orb. Nothing happened when I got close, though. I supposed you had to touch whatever this thing was supposed to be to finish this… well, I didn’t want to call it a test, though it certainly seemed like one. I gingerly reached out with my arm and closed my hand around the purple orb.

One swishing second later, I was back inside Henantier’s twisted bedroom. The orb had disappeared from my hand completely, but on the same note, I saw that Henantier now looked much more solid. He glanced slowly around the room, but when he caught sight of me, he jumped almost a foot in the air before turning to face the wall again, whimpering feebly.

Fat lot of good that did for him, I thought. Looks like I’m not done yet.

down to the tuft of black hair hiding that one part no one ever wanted to see.
Well, not Teresa at least. Although I suspect that some people like seeing it. I thought Derelas was a blond though?

I liked how you start out the nightmare by making it plain that it was indeed that, a nightmare. With those burning red eyes (Sera's?) and the little song about the lamb.

With no clothes, no magic, and only his hatred for Kud Ei for her foul treachery, Derelas must brave the horrors of Henantier's nightmare!

and getting myself turned into Skyrim cheese
A wonderful setting-friendly phrase again. A tasty one too. I will have a wheel of that please, and a bottle of Tamika's.


nits:
The wasn’t my nightmare
I think you meant This?

ROFL !!! Great little inset of Dere's thoughts there!





Huge addition to the quest !!! I am awestruck by your idea here !!!




Loved every one of Dere's nicknames for Kud-Ei in his anger at her - but this has to be my favorite !!


I am loving everything you are doing with this quest - totally making it your own !! Great Write !!

'Rosa: I refer you to the character screenshot thread on that one. I changed his appearance when the story began. He is brown-haired now, and I actually referred to that in Chapter 6-1.

How to tell a real blonde from a dye ??? Er ...

Trials of a Semi-Clueless Wood Elf is the delightful invention of the inspirational Arwen of course! A chocolate chip cookie would be divine!

Oh this is gonna get complicated for Kud-Ei. Even if she gets her Henantier back intact, she's gonna have one mighty pissed off wood elf to deal with! Something tells me that even a University recommendation is not going to cut it for Dere! Surely she could have told him a little more than she did.

No clothes. No weapons. No spells. No worries, I'm sure there won't be any more danger ahead.

You are creating some nice haunting atmosphere here.

For some reason I'm thinking of Alice and the rabbit hole. In certain hands, that delightful child's tale can become quite nightmarish. I recall a computer game called American McGee's Alice that was unbelievably twisted. Your treatment of a familiar quest reminds me of this.

Well done, I'd say!

@Wise Sage Rosa: I love nightmares. They give me such pleasure to write, as they allow me to exercise a lot of creativity and conflict. You do need to be careful with them to avoid cliche, but I work hard to ensure that nightmares only get inserted where they might be proper and understandable.
Nit be picked.

@mALX: And that's just the tip of the iceberg there.

@Acadian: *hands over two chocolate chip cookies* Make sure Buffy gets one of those!
More danger? Never! This is a nightmare, what bad could possibly happen? (Famous last words)

@ haute ecole kitty: A most excellent comparison! I'm glad you are enjoying what I have done to the quest.

@all: Thank you all for your continued support. Sometimes, I feel I can get a bit sadistic in my writing. Take for example, my combat scenes, which tend to be rather brutal. I don't know what to say, maybe I'm more masochistic than I thought?

next: The nightmares continue....






For the third time in this venture, I now found myself back in Henantier’s morphed bedroom. He was almost completely solid now, though still in no state to talk. As for me, my nude figure was now caked in blood, after having been sopping wet and horribly shivering not too long ago. My second task was to dive into the black depths of a water-filled cavern, with nothing but a weak water-breathing potion and my hands to guide me. I was horridly close to drowning when I finally found the door, but thankfully for me, it opened to cool, crisp air in an oddly blazing hot room. Within laid the second orb, and the second task was done.

From where I had just returned was a battle like no other: me against two massive man-bulls wielding huge hammers and sharp horns. Twice I found myself nearly gored, and by the time they were both dead, the chainmail armor the Dreamworld had supplied me was falling apart at the seams. Also, my roughly forged blade had been bent in three places. My body ached where I had been slammed into the stone walls of the arena I had fought in. A large bruise was also welling up on my stomach where one of their hammers had met me, sending me crashing into said wall. By the time the final foe fell, my strength had nearly evaporated, and three deep cuts where their horns had caught me were gushing blood upon the stained dirt floor. I was most thankful that they had disappeared once I touched the third orb.

The final door caught my eye. This one was built not into a roughly hewn boulder, or a blood-stained archway, but into an ornately carved marble wall. Two handles were carved into the center, forming a complete circle when the doors stood shut. I had seen this design before… in my dreams – the terrors of my dreams. I wanted to shrink away from them; to flee and cower in a corner like the pitiful Altmer I was here to rescue. I never wanted to discover what was behind them, and nothing could ever prepare me for entering the cavernous depths beyond.

I could not stop myself; I was drawn toward the doors like a bee to a flower. My mind screamed in protest with every step I took forward; every step closer to a place I never again wished to see. But it was too late, I was already there. The doors required no touch, not even the whisper of my breath to respond. They slid open with a silence so loud I was sure it would deafen me with its sheer nothingness, revealing the blackness within. There was no screaming this time as I was sucked to my next destination; I knew what awaited me.

My feet met the stone floor of the darkened halls, lit only by the dim twinkling of sky-blue crystals. My heart and gut were gripped tight in fear, but I knew that to go back now would be impossible. It was time to face my dreams; time to conquer the deepest bowels of the Oblivion born inside my head. For that is where it felt like I had traveled. This was no Dreamworld, I was trapped in the sphere of Vaermina. I so wish that Henantier realizes what a fool he is, few ever venture forth into the realm of nightmares and return to freely tell of it; Vaermina is quite protective of her secrets.

Every step I took echoed loudly throughout the halls. I was shivering once again, but this time not from cold or weakness. Fear filled my heart like nothing I had ever known before. I knew the road down which I walked, and it never led me anywhere good.

My foot then met a raised tile, lowering it into the ground with an ominous rumbling. The next thing I heard was a loud crackling sound of which stones would make when hit together, and I was deluged in a rain of dust. Without a single thought, I leapt backward as the ceiling crashed to the ground all around me. A large stone hit my hand, and I felt a searing pain alongside a gruesome cracking noise I knew was not made by the rock. I laid sprawled upon the ground, arms protecting my head until many moments after the collapse had ceased. My hand was already swelling and throbbing horribly, and a great purple bruise began to well up on the outside of my palm. I was wondering if the injuries I sustained here would be carried back to the real world as I rose up to continue on.

I now stood facing a grand doorway inscribed with serenely twisting vines, which glowed bright despite the compressing darkness all around me. My goal lay beyond. Placing my unhurt palm to the door, it opened to the lightest brush of my fingertips, as if it were waiting for me. The room beyond was a terrifyingly familiar sight. It was bathed in blood red light, and the crystals here were black and corrupted. The raised stone platform bearing the dark throne was all too familiar to me, as was the lone figure sitting in the grand chair. Slowly, I made my way forward, blood pounding in my ears with every step I took closer. Two lesser figures cloaked in black stood at the base of the stairs wielding halberds. The moment my feet touched the first step, they swung their halberds down, barring my path with the resounding clang of metal-on-metal.

At this sound, the figure in the throne took his feet. His eyes grew red with malice, and I was certain I now stared into the blank, featureless face of death.

“Welcome, Child of Dawn,” came his commanding, deep voice that made my neck hairs stand on end. “Welcome to the halls of destiny.”

He began to descend the stairs.

“Do you wonder to see me here? I am certain you do. The answer is simple. You have been chosen.”

He began to slowly draw his blade, beautiful and terrible alike. I saw the familiar glinting blackness stained upon the blade. There was no escape this time; I stood rooted to the ground, waiting for the inevitable to strike.

“I am your inveterate foe, and I hold all that is dear to you in my grasp. We shall meet soon, you and I; far sooner than you may think.”

His unblinking red eyes blazed.

“Struggle not with yourself. We, of all people know… there is no escaping the Light of Dawn.”

His blade flashed deeply red as he raised it, tip pointed straight to my heart. In one swift motion, he thrust forward.

The expected pain never came, all I felt was ice. The frigidness of the corrupted metal spread throughout my body, numbing my fingers and deadening my limbs. The shadow-cloaked figure did not bother to retrieve his weapon, he simply turned away and proceeded back up the stairs. A dark pool was building beneath my unprotected feet, and my body had become the effigy of a crimson fountain. The strength of my legs left me, and soon my knees collided noiselessly with the stone beneath me. The scene dissolved into blackness as a singsong voice rang through my pointed ears….

“With artifacts four restored once more,
The hero shall rise to evil’s demise.”

“Wake up,” a calm, endearing voice spoke through the blackness. But how could I wake up? I was just stabbed through the heart and glimpsed in horror at my blood spilling over the cold stone floor. How could I wake up when I was dead?

“Wake up, Dere!” The voice spoke again, this time more urgently than before. I then became aware of the fact I was holding my eyes tightly closed. I could also feel a warm hand gently shaking me. If this was death, why did it feel so good?

My eyes flew open. I was no longer lying on unyielding stone, but on soft warm grass greener than I had ever seen before. Color blossomed all around from the large number of sprightly flowers decorating the scene. I felt a cool breeze upon my unclothed back, and heard nearby trees dancing with joy. The small grove was surrounded with great oaks and poplars, their broad leaves gently shading the world from the harshness of summer Magnus, who blazed down upon me with all the intensity of a volcano. The hem of cream-white robes then swished past my eyes, and I looked up to see who it was.

Auburn trusses of curled hair fell in waves beside her eyes, which shared the same deep brown as my own. Her lips were full and lightly pouting, and her high cheekbones imparted the shape of a heart across her face. Her figure was slender, though it did not carry the curves many men had eyes for. She turned to look at me; the serenity in her gaze might have melted even the most iron-hearted man on Nirn.

“Mother,” I whispered. My voice was gone, and my eyes were burning.

“Time runs short, my son,” she spoke. Her brisk tone did not match her calm visage. “The enemy moves, and Oblivion opens. They use the confusion to enact their plans in secret. What their ultimate goal is cannot be known, but remember this: they will be stopped.”

“I don’t understand,” I began, utterly perplexed by her uncharacteristic words. “What do you mean? Who will be stopped?”

“The final foe of all mortal races,” she replied, her skin practically glittering in the sunlight; she was so pale. “You know of whom I speak. The Vampire Lord.”

Great black clouds boiled forth with such speed I was momentarily blinded by the loss of light. The wind was building to a howl.

“He is feared by all, and only few dare to stand against him.”

“The Children of Dawn?” I asked, practically shouting now as the wind reached the force of a hurricane. Mother nodded in assent.

“He must not be allowed to succeed, and it is within you alone that power dwells,” she continued, her voice racing as if she had only seconds left to speak.

“Why me?” I asked incredulously, my eyes wide and my heart beating a gong upon my ribs. “How am I special in all this?”

“Because it is you he wants,” Mother replied as fiery streaks of red appeared in the sky. “You are tied to his fate, and his will cannot be escaped.”

She then stood calmly, refusing to answer any more of my questions as thunder broke the sky overhead. Not one second later, a slender black blade stabbed through her chest.

“NO!” I cried out, holding my hand toward my mother’s dying figure. Every tree around me erupted into flame as I watched her slowly dissolve into ash. The shadowed figure with gleaming red eyes now stood in her place. I fell to my knees, my body having gone numb with shock, loss and fear. Then the same singsong voice I heard before rang through my ears once again.

“So shall be heard, say Light of Dawn,
From ashes of death shall life be drawn.”

The scene dissolved again.

I was on the ground again, shaking as though the ground quaked beneath me and my eyes burning with the same anguish that tore into my soul. I neither knew nor cared how long I lay upon the cold, dark stone. All I knew at this point was this: I was through with this journey. I wanted nothing more than to leave and run; run as far away as I could and never look back. The images I had just been forced to live through I would now take to my grave; they would haunt me forevermore.

I slowly rose from the ground… a familiar plinth stood before me, and suspended above it was a small, glowing orb. This was it, I thought, taking my unsteady feet. This is the last piece of Henantier’s fractured mind. How I knew this I could not tell, I simply knew that touching this orb would end it all.

I reached out with shivering fingers and grasped the orb in a weak grip.

That last one was the Test of Perception, wasn't it?

Quite the twist on it, if you ask me. Well done!

And seeing Mother again, and under such circumstances, has got to be absolutely shattering for Dere. No wonder he wanted this journey over! Period!

Still no pics of Derelas? Here I thought this would be the perfect place to start busting out some of his Adnois-like form, glistening wetly from water and strain...

Poor Derelas, he is certainly getting worked over in dreamy-dream land. He better never visit Elm Street...

As Haute said, quite a twist you put on the end of this quest! Excellent writing on your part, throwing out the test we see in the game, and instead giving us something not only entirely original, but specifically directed at Derelas. You have changed this quest from just another fetch and carry MG recommendation to an important stepping stone in the Derelas Main Quest (or DMQ).


nits:
As for me, blood caked my nude figure that had not too long ago been sopping wet and horribly shivering.
This looks like a fragment. Did you mean something like:
My nude figure was now blood caked, after having been sopping wet and horribly shivering not long ago.

*sigh*

Oh, but he's wearing clothing there!

Oh, I see! You mean a picture in a more Freudian sense!

Naughty, naughty!

*perks up ears*

What? What? Who? Me? Me naughty? What'd I miss this time?

The dream sequence and last couple paragraphs - both powerful imagery !! You have taken this quest and made it totally your own, Great Write !!

Alright, fine. If you want him to strike a manly pose, here you go.

ROFL !!!

It was both interesting and creative to weave Henantier's dreamworld with Dere's! The result was a nice mysterious blend.

'My feet met the stone floor of the darkened halls, lit only by the dim twinkling of sky-blue crystals.'
I really liked this description. Very effective!

'and her high cheekbones imparted the shape of a heart across her face.'
And another great description. This one was both lovely and creative.

Nit:
'We shall meet soon, you an I; far sooner than you may think.”
You want 'and' instead of 'an' here of course.

@naughty haute: Correct you are. Exactly why the two nightmare realms intermingled will be explained shortly (or rather a suspicion will be confirmed).

@SubRosa: Now that we have fed your Freudian desires, let us return to the story. He certainly did get a good work-over, and is definitely going have a hard time living with the images he received from the Dreamworld. Indeed this was an important stepping stone for him, and repercussions of these events will be felt later.
Nit be picked.

@mALX: You know about me and imagery. That is one of my favorite ways to add meaning and depth to a scene, so I use it quite a bit.

@Acadian: I always wanted to do this, and I'm glad it worked out. Considering how important dreams are to this tale, it made sense that our hero would have to face his own at some point. What better time, I thought, than when an Altmer who bit off more than he could chew needs a helping hand?
Nit be picked.

@all: Your readership and support of this project continue to be appreciated.

next: The nightmares end, but there are, as always, repercussions....






Upon my return to Henantier’s twisted madhouse of a bedroom, my first glance was toward the mer responsible for its existence. No longer did he look wispy or fragile, he was whole again, and his Altmer poise restored in full. As he stood from his cowering posture in the remote corner of the room, our eyes met.

“Oh! Uhh… erm… greetings.” Henantier sputtered, looking quickly back toward the wall he had been cuddled against in fear for the duration of my visit. I suddenly became aware once again of the fact that I was wearing nothing but a silver necklace, and I felt myself growing hot once again.

“I… uhh… see you’ve managed to restore my fractured mind,” Henantier continued, addressing the wall to avoid glancing at me. “So, well… thank you.”

Unfortunately, no thanks could ever undo what happened in here. My feeling of triumph was now shattered by rage; rage against everyone responsible for this. I would have to control myself, though. At least, for a little while longer; long enough for Henantier to remove me from this dreadful place.

“Listen,” I began, barely bothering to hide the vicious contempt in my voice, “I didn’t do this for you and after what happened here, I wish I never got involved. Just get me out of here.”

“Well, you certainly have an attitude,” Henantier responded, an affronted tone in his voice. “Surely, it wasn’t too much…”

“Don’t test me!” I nearly shouted. “This is your nightmare so you’re the only one who can end it. Just wake up, I’m finished with being trapped in your demented brain.”

I didn’t care if I offended the mer; it wouldn’t even matter soon enough. Once I was out of here, it would be the last I saw of this fetcher.

“Very well,” Henantier responded in a shaky voice. “If that is all you wish, my most unpleasant friend. Grasp my hand.”

I took hold of the golden hand he extended me, and watched as the world around me dissolved into blackness for the final time.




----




My eyes blinked in the inviting evening light. They were so used to darkness and blood-red walls it took awhile for me to remember where I was, then I heard a barely repressed yawn beside me. Turning my head slightly, I watched as Henantier rose and stretched, the tips of his fingers nearly brushing the timber ceiling. One shriek later, and he was buried in the arms of a female Argonian in a green silk dress.

“Thank Mara, you’re back!” Kud-Ei nearly cried, her eyes closed in a vain attempt to fight off tears of joy.

“S’alright,” came Henantier’s muffled voice. It was quite an achievement that Kud-Ei had managed to bury the face of a mer a full head higher than her in such a manner. “I’m okay.”

“I am so glad to hear that,” Kud-Ei responded, releasing Henantier and looking into his incredulous face. Neither of them even seemed to notice I was up — and much for the better that way, I thought. Given what I had just put myself through, I did not feel I could be held responsible for what I might do to Kud-Ei if she got in my way. I never felt more inflamed to hurt someone in all my life. What I needed right now was some time alone; time to clear my head and figure out where I would go from here. Perhaps I’ll talk to Kud-Ei about this again tomorrow, I mused as I pulled open the creaky door to Henantier’s home and stepped out into the ruby evening light.

“DERELAS!”

A resounding shout like a whip-crack broke the sky around me, and sent me leaping a good foot into the air. The next thing I saw was an utterly livid Tadrose Helas practically sinking herself into the muddy street as she stamped her way towards me.

“Where on NIRN have you been?!” She commandingly requested of me, jabbing her pointing finger into my chest. “I’ve been looking all over town for you for a good week now! Care to explain where you disappeared off to?”

My voice sputtered and died. A week?

“Erm… well… it’s… it’s a bit of a long story…” I replied weakly.

“I do hope you didn’t leave town,” Tadrose demanded of me.

“No,” I responded quickly. “Kud-Ei at the Mages Guild can testify to where I’ve been if you ask.” I then added quickly. My hopes were that if Tadrose were to pursue that lead, she would be able to see through the blatant lies that would be uttered in response. However, seeing how Kud-Ei nearly stole my life from me without a second thought, that was a bit of a long shot. Nevertheless, it would be fun to watch her squirm if that time came around.

“Don’t think for one second I won’t hold you to that statement,” Tadrose growled, removing the finger she attempted to gouge my lungs out with. “Now, if you don’t mind, we must return to the Fighters Guild. Follow me.”




----




The familiar ash-skinned face and raven hair of Faith was waiting within Tadrose’s private room on the third floor. She practically leapt to her feet as we entered, her face a mess of aggravation and what I could only describe as edginess.

“You took your bloody time!” she exclaimed towards me. “What in Oblivion have you been up to?”

“Long story, apparently,” Tadrose mentioned irritably, making no attempt to mask that she didn’t believe a word I said. “I’m thinking it was rather lucky that I found him at all.”

Silently, I had to agree, but now that we were someplace private, I felt now was the time to divulge.

“Well, then I assume you’ve got the time to hear the story, then?” I asked. Tadrose looked a little flummoxed as she turned back to me; apparently she was not expecting me to be quite so quick to admit to my misgivings.

“Well, if you are ready to come clean to us, do please go on,” she replied briskly.

The story was over in roughly half an hour, gauging by the softly ticking carriage clock mounted on Tadrose’s dresser. I carefully skirted the more personal parts, though, making it sound as though the final ‘test’ was merely a trap-filled gauntlet. I wasn’t sure they believed me, but frankly, I didn’t care. Some of the scenes I brought back with me from the Dreamworld were not meant to be shared. When I had finished, Tadrose looked quite bemused, but Faith had turned roughly the color of limestone.

“Gods’ Blood…” Tadrose was first to break the silence. “So, you visited someone’s nightmares? How is that possible?”

I then noticed that I was still wearing the amulet Kud-Ei had given me. This time, when I tugged on the chain, it finally came loose, freeing me of the last vestiges of Henantier’s self-crafted prison. I then handed it over so that Tadrose might examine it.

“So, it’s been inlaid with…” Faith then began, but hesitated shortly after.

“…Black pearl.” I finished for her. This time, it was Tadrose’s turn to blanch.

“That idiotic Altmer…” she voiced. “He must have been desperate; black pearls are the gateway to Vaermina’s Oblivion. How could he possibly have missed that?”

“Wait, so you’re telling me I was in Oblivion this whole time?” I asked incredulously.

“It does explain a lot,” Faith then quipped. “Time doesn’t follow the same rules between the worlds. What is one week here might only be a couple hours there.”

“Nevertheless,” Tadrose then snapped, her characteristic briskness returning to her voice, “you were most foolish to risk your life in such a way, Derelas. To even attempt to steal the secrets of the Prince of the Dreamworld is folly and even this Henantier character should know that.”

“Trust me, that woman Kud-Ei is a master manipulator,” I replied, growing mildly irritated now that Tadrose continued insisting I was solely to blame. “Anyways, I sincerely doubt you wanted to bring me here just to put my nose to the grindstone about my juvenile Bosmeri ways.”

The two Dunmer locked gazes for a brief moment before Tadrose turned back to me.

“Actually yes,” she responded. “We don’t think it is safe for you here any longer.”

It's wonderful that you have time moving differently in Oblivion than it does out on Nirn. I've always been surprised by how much time has already passed with each Gate I've closed. While in game Gate time = Nirn time, it certainly doesn't feel that way!

And including Vaermina in Henantier's dreamworld is genius! It shows what an idiot Henantier was to undertake this experiment of his without adequate preparation and study.

And I wonder how much of his feelings on leaving the dreamworld was his alone, and how much of it was triggered by the manipulations of Vaermina.

From 6-3: My knees buckled, completely unable to support my weight after my previous experience. It took many moments, perhaps hours, to steady myself and find my footing once again.

The turmoil and disorientation you weave throughout the Dreamworld is so effective. It makes perfect sense at the end that a week has passed in Bravil, and that continues the sense of disconnection.

The scene in 6-4 with Dere’s mother is especially moving. The dream elements evoke the nightmare without clouding the message. Outstanding!

It was a relief to find Derelas extremely ticked off in 6-5 again, and not fractured by his own nightmare like Henantier was.

There is nothing at all Freudian about me wanting naked pics of Derelas. Both Buffy and Teresa have already done so in their fics. The Bosmer girls are due a little reciprocity from the boys. Something you still have not come across with btw. You wrote that Derelas was naked, not wearing a loincloth. So this was the perfect opportunity for a full moon.

If that is all you wish, my most unpleasant friend.
Unpleasant indeed. I'd sooner be trapped in the dream forever than put up with an boat like Derelas. Obviously our Bosmer Bowman has a lot to learn about grace under pressure, not to mention what it means to walk the path of hero (no matter how unwillingly).

I thought they made pirate ships from Black Pearl? Not Dreamworld Amulets. Well, maybe they are not so different... Seriously though, the idea to make the Dreamworld not Henantier's, but rather Vaermina's Oblivion Realm was a brilliant idea. Not only is it inventive, but is also makes Derelas' personally-oriented visions make much more sense.

Okay, okay... I'll see to getting a properly nude photo. I've just finished packaging a replacer for my installer, so it won't be too long now. That image was intended as a joke, anyways.

EDIT: Here we go.

The Test of Perception (which we did not do in the story)


The Test of Patience


There we are, a properly nude young man who is not very good under pressure (which is actually rather unlike myself).

Oooh, nice tushies!

And Buffy awards Dere a certified cute butt rating!

'but Faith had turned roughly the color of limestone.'
This is so perfect for an uncomfortable Dunmeri lass!

'black pearls are the gateway to Vaermina’s Oblivion.'
I agree with SubRosa that it was brilliant to tie this quest to Vaermina's. It certainly conjures images of the forever sleeping Arkved and the similar fate that Henantier could have suffered.


Nit - 'Some of the scenes I brought back with my from the Dreamworld were not meant to be shared.'
I expect you wanted the word 'me' vs 'my'.

Now that is more like it!

Now it is Aradroth and Talendor's turns. Then we will have the Bosmer in the Buff album complete!

@haute ecole rider: I'm glad it worked for you making the Dreamworld actually become Oblivion. It felt quite fitting for me to do something like that, and I'm glad it answered any questions you might have had about Dere's nightmares seeping in alongside Henantier's.

@Grits: Welcome back, and thank you for your kind words. I'm glad you enjoyed our romp through the Dreamworld Oblivion.

@SubRosa: Moraility is not black and white in this world. Cyrodiil has become a much darker place than you might realize now, and I hope to make this very clear in the next chapter. Heroes and villains do not exist in this world, nor is morality presented in black and white.

@Acadian: Thank you much for your insight, it is always welcome. Also, you make Dere blush, Buffy.

@all: I shall say it again, this tale does not put much by Oblivion's original black-and-white morality. Heroes suffer, and legends are drenched in blood in this brave new world. You knew it when I made Bravil into a huge dung-heap, and that is going to become all the more clear very soon.

next: Plans are made, and the Black Horse Courier is back with a vengeance.






I woke early the next morning. It was decreed by Tadrose, at Faith’s council, that we find a way to move me to a town less well connected to the Dark Brotherhood. For that, they asked me to bed down early, despite the fact that I had just spent the last week in a similar position. Savoring the waking world once again would have to wait.

“They lost the trail when we fought off those assassins in Vergayun,” Faith told me, retaking her seat. “But it probably wasn’t the best idea to flee here. The Brotherhood owns this city and many say Count Terentius has had many dealings with them in the past.”

“And it is not unreasonable to suspect he may have a hand in this contract, as well,” Tadrose added, handing me back the black pearl amulet. “You’ve stayed here long enough.”

“Trouble is, they’ll be waiting for you to leave,” Faith continued. “You know very well how vulnerable you will be traveling the roads.”

“Even with a guard?” I asked.

“I can’t guarantee your safety any more on my own; not with the Brotherhood in play,” Faith responded. “We have to find a way to get you away from here without needing to travel across country, because you do not want to be found kipping in the wilderness by a scouting party of vampires.”

“And that’s where the problem arises,” Tadrose quipped, looking very concerned. “I proposed this should happen, but the truth is there seems no way possible to do it. We can’t use travel services, either; they’re too easy to track.”

“Then why propose it in the first place if you knew it impossible?” I inquired.

“Can you see any other choice?” Tadrose snapped. “You made a grave mistake bringing him here, sera Dresdan. We’re pretty much cornered here, easy prey for his assailants. If only Vitellus and his men were back, I might have been able to organize an escort, but obviously that’s off the table.”

“That leaves teleportation as the only option,” Faith finished, ignoring Tadrose’s chastising remark. “Problem is, the Mages Guild hasn’t finished their network yet, so they won’t let us use it.”

I then had an idea flash across my mind.

“Is it functional, at least?” I asked.

“Some sections,” Faith replied. “I think they sent a few people down here from the University about two weeks ago to check on the progress of the Bravil branch’s Guide, as well. They might have made some progress. Why, do you want to ask them? I doubt they would give much regard to an unknown associate’s request.

“Not entirely unknown,” I responded. “That debacle with Henantier I told you about? I might be able to call in a favor on that.”

Faith gave pause, and spared a glance at Tadrose. There was a certain gleam in her eyes that I had come to associate with a rapid release of tension.

“You know what, that might be worth a shot,” Tadrose responded slowly. “We’ll try first thing tomorrow morning. Best get some rest now, Derelas, we need to be up bright and early tomorrow. You should probably stay here in the Guild, as well. There’s some free space on the second floor.”

I made my way downstairs as the poppy-yellow sun filtered in through the grimy windows into the well-kept foyer. The small contingent of fighters left behind were gathered around the dining table, enjoying a light breakfast of crunchy-crusted bread with olive oil and reading the latest news. Tadrose seemed completely engrossed in the paper, as well. I found a spare laying on a chair nearby, picked it up, and began to read….





Looking up from when I had finished, I saw that Tadrose looked absolutely disgusted. She proceeded to ball up the paper and sling it into the fire.

“Trash,” she commented to no one in particular. “Complete tripe. How could Ocato do such a thing, ignoring all the good Savlian did for his city? Completely uncalled for.”

“Sounds like Ocato wants to turn Captain Matius into a political scapegoat,” I replied, letting Tadrose know I was there.

“The only reason there can be,” Tadrose responded, turning to look at me. “He’s just looking to save his own imp chips right now. He knows he botched the siege, the Legion never responded to Kvatch’s many calls for aid.”

“You heard?” Faith then asked, making her presence known as well. There was fire in her eyes to match the blaze in Tadrose’s and she, too was holding a balled up newspaper.

“Unfortunately,” Tadrose replied, handing me a couple slices of bread and a small plate of oil.

“Well, we can’t dwell on that right now,” Faith quipped, turning her gaze to me. “We still need to get you out of here posthaste. I hope you have a plan of some sort?”

“I enter the guild, and speak with Kud-Ei about using the Guide to send me to Anvil,” I recited. “If she doesn’t go for it, I remind her that she owes me a favor for rescuing Henantier from Oblivion.”

“And if she still turns a white scale?” Tadrose asked. “Kud-Ei is a known manipulator, you said it yourself.”

“Who’s the Court Mage for Castle Bravil?” I returned quickly.

“Fathis Aren,” Faith replied instantly, “why?”

“Because if worst comes to worst, we can always try blackmail,” I answered. “Kud-Ei wanted this off the record, so I’m sure she would be much more agreeable if I threatened to put this on the record. Given what I went through in Vaermina’s Oblivion, it would hardly be unwarranted.”

“And if you must know, you couldn’t possibly choose a better person,” Tadrose began with a rather heavy face. “He’s remarkably well connected, Aren, all the way up to Arch-Mage Hannibal Traven. There’s just one glaring problem with that idea, though….”

“Which is?”

“He’s been spending increasingly huge amounts of time down at the Arena in Cyrodiil City,” Tadrose answered me. “Why he would do such a thing is anyone’s guess, he is not the kind of person who would strike me as a gambler. Nevertheless, it’s been almost a week since he was last here. How do you plan on presumably telling him?”

“We’d have to hope the threat of her secret being made public is enough,” I started. “But she does know I’m traveling, and I’ll need to see the University grounds eventually. I could easily tell him then.”

“But you can’t travel the roads, remember?” Faith quickly rebutted. “We went over this last night, they’re just too dangerous right now.”

“And I have no intention of ever revealing that to her,” I finished. Faith’s eyes once again met Tadrose’s as they sized up what I had told them.

“Well, it’s the best we have,” Tadrose spoke after about a minute. “I don’t think there’s any other way. Best you be off now, Derelas, and good luck to you.”

“Thank you,” I bade, handing the emptied plate back to Tadrose.

Good luck to you, Derelas, and may you not end up in the back end of a cow (or worse)!

Brilliant storytelling on your part, having Matius get into trouble for not staying beside Count Kvatch's side. Though I can't recall where in the game it says he was the Count's bodyguard. UESP wiki says he is actually the Captain of the Kvatch Guard - as such I'm not sure his duties would lie with the Count rather than with the townspeople themselves. That said, I still like your twist on the sad tale that is Kvatch, and the tragedy of the lack of recognition of Savlian Matius as the real Hero of Kvatch.

I think you misinterpreted what I meant by hero. I did not mean someone who rescues every cat caught in a tree (yes, I am looking at you Julian). A hero is someone who takes responsibility for their destiny, then stands and delivers. The reason I said Derelas has a long way to go before he learns what it means to be a hero is that he is blaming someone else for his problems. He blames Kud-Ei's for Henantier's rescue not being a cakewalk. If it would have been, she would not have needed to hire a thug with the promise of a recommendation to do it. She'd have done it herself. He also blames her for his personal Daedra spilling over into Henantier's Dreamworld and making life uncomfortable for him. As if she somehow orchestrated it all to make him suffer.

Not that I am criticizing Derelas. He is reacting like an ordinary person. The reason that heroes are looked up to, is that they are a cut above ordinary. They stop making excuses and pointing fingers, and just get the job done instead. Derelas is going to have to learn how to do that if he is going to face a vampire king and survive. Being ordinary is just not good enough for him anymore. He has to become a hero. I am looking forward to see him grow into those big shoes he has to fill.

Now to today's episode.

move me to a town less well connected to the Dark Brotherhood.
I hope it is not Cheydinhal!

One of our most prominent cities is now without a leader,
Not to mention without a population...

As with the previous BHC's, it is both neat and refreshing to see the main quest unfold without the intervention of the protagonist.

He’s just looking to save his own imp chips right now.
Cyrodiil's favorite snack! I would save them too!

So its off to the Guild Guide we go? The only thing Derelas seems to be overlooking is that if Kud-Ei is really the dark skullduggerer he seems to think that she is, she would see to it that he has an 'accident' during teleportation. Too bad about his head turning up in Anvil while torso ended up in Bruma, his arms in Cheydinhal, and legs in Leyawiin...



nits:
I might have been able to organize a escort,
I think an might work better here.

Much to like here!

Excellent use of the Courier to keep us apprised of the Oblivion Crisis in progress.

The trio of elves logically inventory their options and come up with a plan. To introduce the guild guide rapid transit system is great, and for Dere to hit upon the concept of blackmail to enhance his chance of using it is brilliant. The nightmare quest was just the ticket to set the stage for this.

I look forward to seeing how Dere does at the guild.

If only that darn Vitellus fellow and his men were back in Bravil, but I expect they have bigger Daedra to fry. And I suspect Fathis may be up to his own imp chips in the Imperial City.

WOO HOO !!!

I loved Dere’s temper tantrum at the end of Henantier’s dream world - Awesome to have a real emotion after an ordeal like that !! (and he is hilarious when he is angry!!) I hope you keep his personality intact instead of “hero-izing” him, perfection becomes ad nauseam very quickly. Dere’s unpredictable-ness will def keep him interesting!!! (as will his buns) Great Chapter !!!

P.S. I don't agree that heroes have to be (or are looked up to because they are) "a cut above the ordinary citizens." Anyone can be a hero, most heroes are ordinary people who just act at a time it is needed. (personal growth and maturity are not required, and they are looked up to simply because they risked themselves to save another)

Last chapter:

I absolutely love your use of the BHC to run the main quest line in the background of your story !!! This is the second time you have caught me by surprise with an insert that rocked your storyline !!! Awesome Chapter !!!

That is basically what I was saying. Ordinary people don't act at a time when it is needed. They whine and complain and play the blame game instead. Everything bad that happens to them is always someone else's fault. Heroes are the people who skip all that, and just do what needs doing. They are not people who are ten feet tall, with six pack abs, shoulders the size of football fields, and capes fluttering in the breeze. They are just people: fat, bald, toothless, stuttering, etc... But people who take command of their destiny.

For example, Derelas throws down with the best of them for most of the dream. Until he gets to the part with the Vampire Lord. There he passively stands by while he has a dagger stuck into his heart. Then afterward, he is angry at Kud-Ei and Henantier for putting him through all that. Yet it is really himself whom he is angry with. For he is the one who surrendered his power and allowed himself to be a victim. If he does that for real, he will be dead for real.

People can do bad things to you, but no one else can make you a victim. Only you can. A warrior fights on, because they know that their power is their own, and no one can take it from them. A victim doesn't, instead they surrender their power and feel sorry for themselves. This is something I learned the hard way (as I suspect most people have to). Derelas has to learn this as well. When he does, he will be a hero.

Which is all good. As you said, characters who are perfect are boring. It is the characters who have a long inner journey to make along with their physical actions who are the most interesting ones. They are also the ones people can most identify with, because like real people, they have vulnerabilities that they must overcome. Watching them do that is uplifting for its own sake.

You said a mouthful here! (I agree).

You’re right, Cyrodiil just got a lot darker. Hauling Captain Matius off to the IC, yikes!